Love Me Do
by SeeYourSunshine
Summary: Caitlin Callister is a Londoner who has recently moved to Liverpool. She is quiet, insecure, and anxious. John Lennon is a Liverpool-born lad who is struggling with his musical career. He's loud, clever, and rebellious. But somehow, the two have an instant connection. Which would be fine if it wasn't for Caitlin's abusive boyfriend.
1. I Saw Her Standing There

**A/N: **A new fanfic that won't be updated as often as Lucille, but I'll try to update it as much as I possibly can. If you are interested, please review!

**Love Me Do  
Preface**

She stood in front of the mirror. She wore no clothes. She looked at her right shoulder. There was a small scratch – it had once been a much larger, deeper cut. There was a fresh ring of bruises on her upper arm. On her left shoulder, there was a trail of red scratches that stopped at her elbow. She looked down at her breasts, and the purple bruises that covered them. On her waist, fresh slap marks were visible. She hated her waist. He was right. She was fat.

A knock at the door echoed through the house. "Caitlin? The door, can you get that!"

"Sure, mum." Caitlin quickly threw on her underwear and a long-sleeved white blouse that would cover up the markings. Including the scars on her wrist, the pain she inflicted on herself. She could blame him for all her other bruises, but not the scars on her wrist. No, he wouldn't hurt her if she was like this. Every single scratch on her body was caused by her. If she was skinnier, prettier, smarter…

"Caitlin?" her mother repeated. Caitlin put on her favourite dark blue skirt and hurried down stairs top open the door. "Hello?"

Standing in front of her was a young man, about her age. He had an aquiline nose, auburn-brown hair piled on top of his head for a teddy boy-type look, and interesting brown eyes. "Hey," he said. Caitlin couldn't say anything. She did feel a bit scared. It always felt this around new people, especially men. And with his couldn't-care-less appearance, messy hair, and leather pants, she felt especially nervous.

"H-Hi," she stammered, trying to calm herself down.

_This isn't Jack. You can stop worrying about him._

"I'm John," he said with a small mischievous grin that reminded her too much of Jack. _But this isn't Jack, its John._

"I'm Caitlin," she replied, a smile on her face that she hoped didn't seem nervous.

He held out a basket with food and homemaking things that Mimi had put together. "A welcome to the neighbourhood gift, from me aunt." He had quite a strong Liverpudlian accent, Caitlin couldn't help but notice. She suddenly felt a bit self-conscious about her own accent – she spoke with a posh, London manner.

She accepted the gift basket gratefully. "Thank you," she replied, trying to sound less tidy. Her accent was one of the things Jack hated – the way she excessively pronounced the letter 'G' on the end of words carefully and the way she enunciated the letter 'T' drove him insane.

"You aren't local, are ya?" John asked her.

"No, I'm from London," she said, blushing a little.

"You sound it," he told her and her face flushed bright red.

"It's alright, you'll soon pick up on how we speak 'ere," John told her with a wink.

"Oh, no," she rolled her eyes, sarcastically, making the two of them laugh.

"Would you like to come in for a bit – would you like a cup of tea, maybe? It was really nice of you to bring this over," she said, not wanting him to think she was ungrateful. Jack often said she didn't thank him enough.

"Sure," John replied, and followed her inside the house.

It looked modern and fresh from the outside, but inside was a cluttered mess. "Sorry! I know it's not tidy, we're trying, we're just a bit busy…" she babbled apologetically.

He grinned at her, "Hey, no worries! Everyone's house is like this when they move."

Caitlin offered John an awkward smile, which he returned, but more fluidly. She led him to the kitchen. "Who's this?" a small blonde girl, aged about five, piped up.

"I'm John," John answered her. "What's your name?"

"Lillian Elizabeth Callister," she answered primly. Caitlin held back a smirk as she put the kettle on the boil.

"What's Caitlin's middle name?" he asked Lillian smugly.

Lillian opened her mouth, but Caitlin stopped her. "Lill', I think that's enough talking," Caitlin told her younger sister as she finished making the tea. She set the cups on the bench – they didn't have a table yet.

"I'm insensitive about my middle name, too, luv," John told Caitlin, that wolfish grin on his face. "But if you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"No." Jack hated Caitlin's middle name. That meant John would too.

"Okay," John answered softly.

He was trying to figure this girl out. Ever since he'd got to her house, she'd been embarrassed about all sorts of silly little things – her middle name, her accent, the house's messy state. Why?


	2. Misery

**Love Me Do: Misery  
**_I know that, historically, the chapter is most likely __inaccurate__, but I've just sort of twisted things around so that it fits into the time period.  
__Warning: There is a drug reference and some swearing in this chapter. __There is also a physical abuse scene. It was quite uncomfortable for me to write, and I understand that it may be uncomfortable for you guys to read. Don't feel obliged to read it, you won't really miss out on too much storyline._

Caitlin Callister was interesting, John decided. There was no other word to describe her. John had met a lot of birds over the years, but Caitlin was different to them. She wasn't loud and giggly and energetic and flirtatious, but somehow, she still managed to capture his attention. What was it about her that could make him feel this way?

John needn't try to memorise her appearance. She didn't fit into that early 1960s scene, really, with wavy brown hair that looked like she'd just gone swimming, and her light grey eyes weren't burdened with make-up. So why was she so bloody special?

"John, dinner's ready!" a voice called from outside. It was his aunt, Mimi. Mimi was great, and deep down John knew that she cared a lot. But she was so uptight and stern that John always felt a bit 'closed in' around her.

John got up from his bed and wondered into the kitchen. "Smells great, Mimi," he grinned at his aunt.

"John, what is that ridiculous hairstyle?" she asked her nephew with a glance of disdain.

"What's wrong with it?" John replied, a bit hurt.

"It's so long! It's hardly appropriate, John."

John opened his mouth to argue, but decided that whatever he had to say would be considered a worthless opinion. He smoothed his hair down as much as the gel allowed him to and sat down at their dinner table, as Mimi set the lasagne down. John went to dig in, but not before Mimi reminded him of his 'table manners', which she had been doing every day for the past years and it didn't seem as if John would ever grow up and eat his food like the adult he was.

"This is our last meal before you leave again," Mimi started, "and I'd appreciate it if you ate with decorum."

She was referring to the fact that John was leaving for Hamburg again tomorrow. He'd only be there a few weeks, but Mimi was treating the event as if it was the last time they'd see each-other for years.

Mimi most certainly did not approve of the Hamburg excursions, but she tried to keep her mouth shut, as she wanted to be supportive of John's dreams, however stupid she thought they were. _Music! _John had barely made any sustainable money from music in his life and she hardly doubted he'd begin to any time soon. Many times she had urged her nephew to follow a more realistic path, but she was slowly giving up.

John scoffed a mouthful of food down, which received another glare from Mimi. "Are you sleeping at the McCartney's tonight?" Mimi asked.

"Yes, Mimi," John lied. Mimi was under the impression that John would sleep at Paul's house and then leave early that morning, when in fact they'd be leaving at 6 o'clock tonight, arriving at about 12ish, and their first performance would be at 12. A late time for a concert in Liverpool, but not so much a late time at all in Hamburg. Mimi would never approve of performing the second the boys hopped out of the van, but John liked it this way – they had hardly any time to be nervous.

When John finished his dinner, he went to give Mimi a last kiss good bye, and she hugged him stiffly. "I hope you behave yourself, John," she told him.

"I will be as well-behaved as I always am," he winked as he pulled his bag to his side.

"That's what worries me," Mimi replied. John laughed. "Whatever you say." He kissed her cheek once more before leaving for Paul's house.

John scuffed his way down the footpath, and his eyes settled on Caitlin Callister's home. Warm yellow lights lit up and he could see brief silhouettes of her family at their dinner table, eating. He felt the urge to say goodbye to Caitlin, although he'd only talked to her once and it seemed a bit stupid. His brain searched for excuses to chat to the girl one last time, but his brain also failed. John was just starting to walk away, dismay in his facial expression, when he heard the Callister's door swing open – an act of complete and utter luck. He turned around quickly, to see Caitlin walked out. "Hi!" John called out. She was wearing her pyjamas, and this caused the young lady to blush when she saw John – a boy who hadn't left her mind since their first meeting. The thoughts she had about him were dangerous... she already had a boyfriend, for Christ's sake.

"Hello," she answered with an embarrassed smile. She folded her arms over her chest.

"Cute PJ's," John chuckled. When he saw her cheeks flush red, he immediately regretted it. "I haven't seen you for a while."

Caitlin laughed slightly. "Only a week or so, right?"

"Something like that," John answered. "Have you settled into school alright?"

Caitlin nodded. "Yeah, you could say that. It's rubbish going there, I only have half of my last year to go."

John nodded. "I didn't stick around for too long," he answered. "Never really liked school."  
"What, did you get expelled?" Caitlin asked in shock as she made her way to the bin, the sole reason she'd come out of the house anyway.

"What? No, of course not," John answered quickly. "Suspended a few times, sure, but not expelled. Mimi would skin me alive."

Caitlin giggled. "Expelled? What did you do?"

John shook his head. "Nothing terrible. Gambling during sports events... acting up in class..."

"Gambling during sports events?" she repeated in disbelief.

"The events themselves were boring, I had to make them fun somehow," John protested. Caitlin just shook her head.

"Troublemaker," she said to the older boy with a shake of her head as she dumped a bag of rubbish into the bin. "I have to go, I'll see you around some day, maybe?" she asked John, praying that she didn't sound to hopeful.

"I'd really like to, but I'm leaving for Germany tonight."

"Germany? Wow, that's amazing!" Caitlin grinned. "But why?"

"My band and I have a few gigs," John explained.

"You're in a band? A proper one, or...?"

"I guess we're proper," John told Caitlin.

"That explains the suitcase," Caitlin noted, nodding at the bag. This reminded John of why he'd been walking out in the street at 6pm at night in the first place.

"I'd better go," he said, a bit disappointed. "Seeya, Caitlin!"

Caitlin waved goodbye and walked back inside, and John walked to his best mate Paul McCartney's house. Caitlin was a good enough reason to make John wish he wasn't leaving Liverpool.

* * *

"Pass the crisps, will ya?" George Harrison asked his bandmate, John Lennon. John threw the packet to George, causing several of the chips to spill out over the floor.

"Nice catch, Harrison!" John taunted with a grin.

"Nice throw," George retorted sarcastically, but with a smile.

"We're here, lads!" Paul declared.

They certainly were. They recognised those familiar bright lights of Hamburg instantly. When the minivan stopped, the boys – John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete Best and Paul McCartney – spilled out onto the streets instantly. They hurried off to the club they'd be playing at to perform their first set. No time to sightsee.

They finished the concert how they'd started – drugged on Predulin and grinning from ear to ear.

In fact, John was having such a great time during that Hamburg trip that he didn't even have time to think about Caitlin Callister. While in Germany, he always seemed to forget about England.

But Caitlin didn't forget John, and Jack would soon make that very hard.

* * *

"Hey, K-T," Jack Clark grinned as his girlfriend of eight months opened the door. "I missed you!"

To anyone else in the world, this seemed like a typical, fantastic relationship to be in. When Jack and Caitlin were exposed to the public, Jack did seem like an outstanding boyfriend – calling his girlfriend nicknames, telling her that he missed her. But as Caitlin lead her boyfriend upstairs and shut the door, they weren't in public. They were in private, and this was when Caitlin started feeling nervous.

"Settled into your new school alright?" Jack asked. Chills ran down Caitlin's spine... this was almost the same question that John had asked her just a day ago. Could Jack somehow know...?

Of course not! Yesterday night had just been between Caitlin and the garbage bin. Also, nothing had happened. Except for the fact that throughout the entire conversation, Caitlin had been experiencing an almost artistic curiosity for this new boy. It was a connection that Caitlin hadn't ever experienced with Jack. Her relationship with Jack was built on two things: fear and control. But right now, Caitlin tried to relax – Jack had no idea about her feelings for John, and she –

"Met any interesting boys yet?" Jack asked, dark eyebrows raised.

_Interesting._

That was one word that John Lennon went hand-in-hand with.

"Of course not!" Caitlin answered with an unsteady laugh that she hoped Jack wouldn't pick up on. "You're the only person I want in my life."

Caitlin couldn't help but wonder which statement was the bigger lie.

"No boys at all?" Jack checked.

"Of course I've met boys, silly, but just ordinary guys, no one special. You're the only one I want," she confirmed. Jack thrived on her compliments.

_She needs me, _he thought. _It doesn't matter what I do, she's mine. All mine._

"Good," Jack said. "I'm a bit shocked, though, surely there's some cute boys in the neighbourhood?"

Jack was testing her, Caitlin knew that. But it was a test with multiple choice answers that were all wrong.

"Hmm, none that I've really picked up on," Caitlin told him.

"Not a single attractive guy in Liverpool? Wow," Jack said with mock shock.

"I haven't been with any guys, okay!" Caitlin blurted out in a panic. "I've hardly even talked to guys, I've barely looked at guys!"

"I thought you said you have met boys?"

Caitlin froze. She had been caught out in yet another non-existing lie. "For god's sake, Jack, what do you want me to say? I haven't gone behind your back, I haven't flirted with anyone..."

"Don't lie to me!" Jack shouted. It wasn't particularly loud, but it was enough to send Caitlin's body rigid. "There's been guys, hasn't there? You're such a whore, I shouldn't have trusted you to come here!"

Caitlin and Jack both knew that Caitlin had no choice but to come here. She wasn't a whore, though, and she couldn't let Jack call her that.

"I'm not a... a whore, Jack, and you don't have the right to call me that." Her voice was shaking and her bones were shuddering with nerves.

"Don't I?" he snarled.

Jack was known to have sudden mood swings, but surely something this minuscule couldn't have set him off.

"I love you," Caitlin whispered. He soaked up his words, mostly soaking up the fact that she didn't mean it, she didn't love him, she hated him, but she was saying this out of... out of what? … fear? ...respect?

Jack liked the sound of both of them.

"There has been a guy who's caught your fancy, hasn't there?" Jack pushed further. He wasn't entirely sure that a guy had caught Caitlin's fancy, but it seemed quite likely.

Caitlin nodded dumbly.

"Who is he?"

"His name... his name's John. Nothing has happened between us, I swear."

"What do you swear on?"

"My life."

"Not good enough."

"Lillian's life."

"That bitch isn't worth shit to anyone."

Caitlin's shaking body turned rigid. How dare he speak about her sister that way? More importantly, though, how dare she allow him to?

"My father's grave."

Jack smirked.

"Good. What's the fellow's last name, then?"

Caitlin didn't want to answer.

"What is it?" Jack bellowed.

"Lennon."

"What?"

"John Lennon, alright?" she whispered. "Is that enough?"

"He lives here, in Liverpool?"

"Yes, you should know that," Caitlin answers, and the sarcasm in her tone didn't falter.

"Don't be lippy with me," Jack growled. "You're a disgusting little slut!"

Jack extended his arm, and held it up in the air as a threat to Caitlin. "I'm sorry! Jack, I haven't laid a finger on him! We've talked twice, but that's all! We've talked."

"Has he been in this house?"

"Yes, but he was just welcoming me to the neighbourhood, I swear that's all!" she sobbed.

"Has he been in this bedroom?" he asked.

"Of course not, Jack, don't be silly!"

"I'm the silly one? You've cheated on me with some scouser!"

"I never cheated, Jack, never! Aren't you listening to me!?" she cried out.

Jack's hand slapped her hard across the face and she animatedly collapsed onto the bed. Jack smiled. He'd wanted this release for so long, and it felt good just to touch Caitlin's skin, to see her writhe in pain beneath him.

"You'll think twice about talking to boys, next time won't you?"

All Caitlin could do was sob and offer Jack a weak nod.

Jack was the type of boy everyone wanted to date. He was popular, cool, older. He owned his own car and had a well-paying job. But he was no prince charming.

Caitlin sat in front of her mirror, covering her face with make-up to hide the faint mark Jack had left. When it was almost covered, she went to sleep. Her mind was abuzz with Jackjackjackjackjohnjackjack jackjohnjohnjackjackjackjack john. And as taboo as it was, she fell asleep with John on her mind.


End file.
